Saturday, March 2, 2013

The Guest House

Deep in the Melodrama unit and drudging up all sorts of emotions, many of them difficult.
I ran across Rumi's poem The Guest House today and was heartened by it.

This experience at Dell'Arte continues to be one of the hardest and best things I have ever done. Every day I am challenged in inexplicable ways. The subtle explorations of self and my body as poet is painstakingly difficult. To allow myself the patience and belief that I am of value in this world. That my voice and body can physically produce value. That the effort I put into my work will yield results. I have spent so much of my life in desperation to be of value that I have avoided looking within at the value I can create here. Blame and jealousy visit often. Comparison and failure have become old friends. I feel so much here. 

And the magical moments. They are not every day but when they occur, it is akin to dreams I have had. A sense of creative community, joy, true magic on a level I just could never have fathomed.

In our Melodrama unit we are exploring the cultivation of emotions. Where do they live in our body? With this new found awareness I have taken to cultivating joy in my daily life. I do it consciously as if it were a pancake recipe that I can whip up every morning and continue to perfect throughout the day. Joy emerges from my upper back and travels up and out of my rib cage and chest. It connects my back with my front as one whole unit. I have the power to create it. This is a revelation. I notice as I cultivate joy daily, that this is replaced by my common more often cultivation of worry. It is so true that we do not ever get rid of our destructive habits. We do not get rid of them. We fill our life with so many creative habits that there is no room left for the destructive ones. 

The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

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